Lemons, Literally
by Victoria Kit
Summary: "5 times nobody ate the lemons, and the one time Madison ate literally all of them."


Author's Note: _i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;)_

* * *

Cordelia stared at the dish full of lemons that she left out on the dinner table. She wondered just why her girls seldom took them, even just for seasoning. Was it worth it, she wondered? She was often asked why she bothered putting out fresh lemons when they were never appreciated. To that, she wasn't sure she knew the answer. Lemons were delicious, but none of the girls in her coven paid any mind to them.

Madison, Queenie, and Nan never noticed the lemons. They didn't appreciate them the way Cordelia did, it seemed. The lemons went unappreciated.

* * *

Cordelia found a new witch to join Miss Robichaux's Academy. Her name was Zoe Benson. She had made herself known by a brutal accident with her boyfriend at the time, utilizing her Black Widow power unbeknownst to both herself and the boy she had been with. Cordelia would offer her refuge within the coven, and keep her safe from those who would seek out witches to harm them. She could keep the other girls company, could maybe even befriend them and help instill a sense of community.

Before Zoe arrived, Cordelia went grocery shopping. The citrus section of the produce area caught her eyes, and she saw the beautifully round, smooth lemons and limes they had for sale. _Maybe Zoe would appreciate the lemons_ , she thought. Taking a deep breath, the headmistress of the academy picked up a bag of lemons and placed it carefully into her shopping cart.

Upon Zoe's arrival, Cordelia instructed the other girls to put away the groceries, though she would later step into the dining room to place a deliciously zesty bowl of lemons atop the table.

Madison and Zoe left to go to a party, and Cordelia looked to the lemons. They hadn't been touched since she put them down.

* * *

Madison was missing. Cordelia knew she was a spirited girl, and at first considered the possibility that Madison had simply gone off partying. This seemed deeply unlikely, however, and the grimness of the situation was all too real. The council came, and Cordelia ran her mouth and gave them answers to questions they hadn't even had. It was embarrassing, humiliating, and her mother's disappointment in her felt as real as ever.

Cordelia later went to cheer herself up by slicing up a lemon. She dropped the glistening, beautifully yellow cut citrus fruit into her clear glass of water. The water tasted as sour as her life felt.

Nobody else noticed the lemons. She would have to use them sooner or later, before they went bad.

* * *

She was blind, and painfully so. Cordelia remembered all too well the sharply agonizing feeling of acid sizzling the flesh from her face, burning her once warm brown eyes into useless organs, no sight preserved. The recovery was painful, and Cordelia felt absolutely overwhelmed by everything.

One positive thing that came from her blindness was the fact that she gained an ability: the sight. She could see from the eyes of others, know their past and future plans just from a simple touch of skin.

In all the time of touching the other inhabitants of the coven, none of them thought about the lemons.

* * *

Truthfully, Cordelia had always felt useless. From the early moments of her life and her mother's neglect that began when Cordelia was rather young, she simply felt pathetic. Was it not sad that the headmistress of the academy, the daughter of the Supreme, was like this? When her eyes were blind to the world, she couldn't even decorate the academy, something that brought her joy in her days of sight. She could not see the plants she had lovingly placed all around the area, to help in the assistance of making potions and giving clean air.

She couldn't see the lemons that Myrtle brought over for her, though she knew in her heart that she would still be the only one using them, anyhow.

* * *

Cordelia awoke in the middle on the night. Her fingers felt around her bedsheets, gripping her surroundings, still adjusting to the darkness and the reality of having a sleep schedule without eyesight. She took in a deep breath, sniffing the air. Something had changed, and she could very much sense it.

It was soon that she fell back to sleep, though she would awake in the morning and very carefully find her way to the kitchen, sure not to fall down the stairs once she remembered their location and feeling.

When she sat down in the same location that the kitchen table's chairs were, she heard Nan's voice.

"It's all gone."

Cordelia turned in the direction, presumably, of Nan. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"The food," Nan clarified. Cordelia could hear gentle shifting noises, possibly the sound of Nan gesturing or standing up from a chair. "Madison ate it all last night. I heard her thinking about it not long ago."

Sightless, marbled eyes widened, and Cordelia's mouth opened, slightly agape. "She ate it all?" _Could that mean…?_

Footsteps audibly entered the vicinity of the kitchen, the sound of heels tapping against the autumn-cooled indoor floor. "What's that I hear, Nan? Are you talking about me?"

Cordelia stood from her seat at the table, grabbing her cane and walking toward Madison. "Is this true, Madison?"

Madison's voice was audibly uncomfortable, hesitant, as if she didn't want to admit what she'd done, as if she didn't want to speak of what could have caused her to eat everything. "What? That's totally crazy. I… have no idea what you're talking about, 'Delia."

"It's okay, Madison, you can tell the truth," said Cordelia. "Did you really, truly eat everything?" She had to know. She _needed_ to know.

Madison sighed. "Look, I can pay for more groceries if you really need me to–"

She was soon interrupted by Cordelia. "The lemons. Did you eat the lemons?"

The sound of Madison clearing her throat audibly echoed through the kitchen. "What?"

"Just answer me, Madison, please. I need to know if you ate the lemons."

"Yeah. I ate them," Madison confessed. "Does it matter?"

Cordelia's heart felt like it was fluttering. A single tear of joy rolled down her cheek, and her lips turned upward into a genuinely happy smile. "Yes, it matters. Thank you." She stepped forward, going by the direction of Madison's voice to find her, and pulled the girl into an embrace. "Thank you," the headmistress repeated, holding Madison securely. "Nobody else ever cared about them before."

Finally, someone appreciated the lemons, and Cordelia was so proud.


End file.
